


Game. Set. Match.

by ambien_dreams



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: INDEFINITE HIATUS, arthur is still an asshole at this point, casino owner!Reader, gentle tommy, period age homophobia, references to recreational drugs, takes place during mid season two, the ocs are mostly filler characters, the reader is a top
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2020-12-24 12:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambien_dreams/pseuds/ambien_dreams
Summary: Y/N owns the luxurious Moon River Casino and Club in London, that catches the eye of the Peaky Blinders for many reasons. It is the setting for it has an unspoken rule on anonymity; no one knows who goes in or comes out. And secondly, it’s the best establishment to move unbelievably large sums on money through, when the service needed. Tommy Shelby pays the mastermind at the top of the food chain a visit, and learns how make deals with the devil.





	1. Very Nice to Meet You

Paper work, paper work, paper work.

Sometimes it felt like all you ever did was write out paper work. The glamour and lights of the gambling world was contrasted by your dark office, lit by only the desk lamp and the glow of the activity outside.

Even on what felt like your busiest night, you were seated at your desk, writing out letters and calculating costs while Helena walked the floor.

“Why aren’t you doing this?” You had asked earlier, desperate move about the crowd for a few minutes. “Aren’t you suppose to be my treasurer?”

Helena, your lead hostess and close friend, just smiled. “We need a pretty face at the front desk, and you just don’t cut it, honey.”

You rolled your eyes and got back to the books. As you sunk into the gloom of crunching numbers, two men stepped into your palace of vice. They were bombarded with the sweet scents of women’s perfume, contrasted with the acrid smells of sweat.

Across the Moon River Casino, Thomas and Arthur Shelby had just stepped through the front door.

The main floor was a bustling, ever moving conglomerate of people. Men and women laughing and drinking, loitering at the roulette wheel. Games upon games of Black Jack were dealt, and the Craps table was crowded as per usual. A live band played a raucous jazz number as couples danced to the beat. Drinks flowed like conversation and vice versa. Men and women of all different colours and lifestyles united together in frivolity and enjoyment.

“What kind of shit hole is this?” Arthur growled from Thomas’ side. His eyes were trained on two women flushed against each other, lips interlocked. “Fucking freaks.”

Thomas had to disagree with his brother. The main floor itself was drenched in gold lighting and red velvet. Crystal chandeliers hung in every room, offering a certain level of refinement that most casinos lacked. The floors were clean, and waitresses were dressed modestly. The Moon River Casino and Club was unnervingly upper class.

“Follow me,” Thomas maneuvered around a sudden influx of people moving across the foyer.

Helena was quick to intercept them before they could make their way to the back room.

“Hello gentlemen,” she said smoothly. “Welcome to the Moon River. I’ve never seen your faces around here before. New to town?”

Arthur gave her a sneer of a grin, eyeing her from head to toe. “Something like that. We’re here on business.”

She smiled with faux warmth, glancing down at the book in her arms. “The Moon River Casino and Club is a place for people to unwind and ‘let loose’ so to speak. Any business transactions occurring between two separate parties must be confirmed with the head of the Casino at least a month prior, and I have no record of any transaction tonight.”

“We’re not here to make a transaction,” Arthur said impatiently. “Were here to talk to the man of the house.”

“Unfortunately, the ‘man of the house’ will not be seeing anyone tonight.”

“Please,” Thomas’ voice had no evidence of warmth. “It’s a matter of grave importance.”

Helena did not back down. “I’m sorry gentlemen, I must insist-”

“And so must we,” he said, growing frustrated. “Listen, we’re going to see Y/N Y/L/N tonight. We’ll wait until the casino closes if we have to, but we’re going to see ‘em. Okay?”

Helena’s eyes were steely. She turned on her heel and marched to your office.

There was a tentative knock at the door. All the waitresses and servers knew not to disturb you when your door was closed.

Your pen stilled. “What?”

“Y/N,” a young typesetter, Maruka, poked her head in. “Helena says there are two men here to see you.”

You frowned, but your curiosity was piqued. “Come in, darling. Who are they? Where did they say they were from?”

She explained quickly. Two Northerners, gruff, with suits and caps.

“They said their names were Arthur and Thomas Shelby.”

Oh. _Oh_.

“You should have opened with that, Maruka.” You rubbed your eyes. There was no heat or anger in your words. “I had a feeling they’d be coming here eventually.”

“You know them?”

“Heard of them. I know one of them has a bit of a problem with the snow we push through here.”

The young woman crossed her arms. “I think they’re bad news.”

You almost laughed at how serious she sounded. “Really? Why is that?”

“Call it my intuition.”

“I’ll call for you intuition when I see them. Send them in, but be prepared to escort them out.”

She nodded. “Aye aye, captain.” Then turned her heel and marched out.

You mentally prepared yourself for the oncoming shitstorm. The Peaky Blinders were notorious band of characters that dealt with fixed gambling up North. You had heard they were moving into Sabini’s turf, and started making deals with Alfie Solomons. All of that was small potatoes to you. The real money was in the Casino business, with a touch of money laundering, arms deals, and drug running on the side. Slipping a cigarette between your lips, you waited for your typesetter to return.

The two men appeared in the doorway, led by Maruka. She said nothing, merely held the door for them and left as fast as she came.

You could immediately pick out Thomas Shelby. He was distinctive for a man with no real defining characteristics, with his dark hair and shockingly blue eyes. High cheekbones and strong jaw, he was almost too pretty to be a gangster.

Almost.

He stepped forward to your deck after you refused to acknowledge them. “Y/L/N, we-”

“Mr. Shelby, did I sent you an invitation?” You struck a match against the heel of your boot, lighting your cigarette.

Thomas bristled ever so slightly, almost undetectable. “No, we-”

“Did I send a courier to you?”

“No.”

“A letter?”

“No.”

You suppressed a smirk, taking a long drag. “And I have a feeling you aren’t here to experience the masterful jazz skills of Mr. Rogerstein and his four man band?”

“Definitely not,” Tommy Shelby said while seating himself on the arm chair across your desk.

You closed the massive ledger, pulling out even more papers on top. “Well, gentlemen, if you did not make an appointment with Helena at the front desk, I’m afraid I can’t fit you in. Good day.”

Your pen scribbled away, ignoring the two men.

“We have a proposition for you.” The scrawnier, much meaner looking one, Arthur, said from beneath his mustache. Despite his words, he seemed as though he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

“Fellas,” you sighed, taking off your reading glasses. “If I wanted any business with the Peaky Blinders by now, I would have given you a ring. But as it is…” you waved your pen to the door. “Please, I have paper work.”

Uneasy silence fell over your office. Arthur’s eyes were trained on you as Tommy regarded you with a healthy amount of disinterest.

“It doesn’t do a business well to pass on opportunities that fall into its lap.” You took note of how gravelly and deep Thomas’ voice was.

You locked eyes with him. “Maybe 'opportunities’ should have made an appointment at the front desk, before he fell into my lap?”

“Fine,” the mean one snapped as Thomas looked down. “This place is a freak show anyways.”

You smiled tersely. “Let others enjoy their vices as you enjoy your’s.” Ever so slightly, you rubbed the underside of your nose while making eye contact with Arthur.

He growled, shifting in his seat.

“Easy,” Tommy muttered under his breath.

“Down boy,” you hummed, relishing the way Arthur’s face twisted in rage.

He stood, chair screeching. “I’ve had enough of this bitch. Tommy let’s go, there’s nothing here for us.”

“Hmm,” You rolled your cigarette between your fingers, eyes flickering to Tommy. “I think you should let the boss make that decision.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Arthur, wait outside.”

“But, Tommy-”

“_Now_.”

You grinned while Arthur Shelby stalked out of the room, shoulder hunched in anger.

“Quite the temper on that one,” you mused.

Thomas pulled out a cigarette from a delicate-looking silver case. “Only when provoked.”

“How do you keep any business with him around?” you struck another match and offered the flame.

He leaned forward, and you watched the fire singe the edge of the cigarette. Up close, you could see the dark grey that flecked the light blue of his irises.

As he leaned back, you shook out the match. “I manage.”

A quiet laugh made your chest shake. “Alright Mr. Shelby,” you spread your hands in welcome. “What can I help you with?”

Thomas gave you that calculating look again. Like a captain assessing the battlefield. “My brother isn’t the type of man you want as an enemy, Y/L/N.”

You stood up, wandering to the liquor cabinet. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m not particularly worried.”

He tilted his head. “Why is that?”

“I won’t be doing business with him if I can help it.” You gestured to the various bottle on the tray. “If anything, I would prefer to work solely with you.”

Thomas gave the most delicate of nods to your offer. You pulled your finest whiskey out. Single malt, aged for 15 years. It was suppose to have been a gift for your mother, but you decided the situation called for it.

“You have something against him?” Thomas asked from behind you.

Turning to face him with his drink, you smiled. “I never trust a man who loses his temper at the slightest inconvenience. It tells too much about his character, and it’s bad for business.”

You handed him the glass, setting the bottle on the table. For a second, you stood above Thomas, eyes sliding over his form. It was something of a test. Would he shift uncomfortably in his seat? Would he stand up, and meet your challenge? Would he look away? That’s what any lesser man would do.

Instead, he merely raised his glass to you in silent cheers.

You smiled once more. Oh, this one was interesting.

“He called me a bitch,” you added, sitting back in your seat. “And I’ll be honest. That was almost the deal breaker right there.”

Thomas said nothing, not defending the actions of his brother. He sipped his whiskey.

You nodded to the glass. “How is it?”

He lifted it, peering at the amber liquid through the light of your desk lamp. “It’s alright. We sell it in bigger bottles in Birmingham.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “Too much of a good thing spoils you, Mr. Shelby.”

For a second you swore you could see the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Besides,” you whispered conspiratorially. “Size isn’t everything.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

“So,” you changed the subject while stubbing out the rest of your cigarette into the glass dish. “Why are you here, Mr. Shelby?”

“I’m here strictly on business. The Blinders are looking to-” 

You cut him off. “Mr. Shelby, you seem to misunderstand me. _Why are you here?_”

He paused, somewhere between frustrated and intrigued. Whatever reserves he harbored melted away after he sipped his drink. “Sabini’s causing us troubled. He’s working with Alfie Solomons to push us back North.”

“And you need the casino because…”

“Because we need land here,” Thomas said. “We need to, establish ourselves in the South. So to speak.”

“And the Eden Club?” you asked. “I thought it was property of the Peaky Blinders.”

Thomas shifted in his seat, breathing out heavily. “Sabini took it.”

You nodded, making sure not to look smug; now wasn’t the time to gloat. “Of course he did, the swine.”

“Does he make trouble on this side of London?”

“Trouble is putting it lightly,” you blanched. “You’re not the only one who wants this turf. I hate that fucking prick. Hate everything about him. Whenever he comes here, he acts like a god, treats my girls and patrons like shit, and drinks until he’s sick.”

“Sounds like a prick,” Tommy hummed. He was in an infinitely better mood than before. “We can keep him away, you know.”

You snorted. “I’m not too keen to have your fellas milling about the casino all day; it’ll ward off my paying customers.”

“The Peaky Blinders are nothing if not discreet. You’ll never know we’re here,” Thomas replied. The determination in his eyes shone through. Those were the eyes of a man trying to conceal how desperate he really was. 

You were silent as you considered. If Solomons and Sabini had reached an agreement, the Moon River could go underwater. You could already see your turf crumbling away. If Thomas Shelby needed your help, you were going to make him work for it. 

“What can the Moon River offer the Peaky Blinders?” you asked, folding one leg over the other. If he wanted to play ball, you had to be willing to set up the court.

He thought for a second. “Men. We need numbers. And refuge when necessary.”

You frowned. “Is that it?”

“And guns.”

“Mr. Shelby, I would never get my business involved wi-”

“Don’t try to lie it, Y/L/N. Not to my face.”

You swallowed, becoming alarmingly aware of how the conversation was slowly falling out of your control. A graceful smile masked this concern. “Forgive me, Mr. Shelby. I’ll stay honest with you, as long as you do the same with me.”

“So?” He took a long drag from his cigarette. “Do we have a deal?”

“Perhaps.” You exhaled, stretching out your spine. 

“Perhaps?”

“Yes, Mr. Shelby, perhaps.” you said. “I don’t hear much profit for the Moon River from this little agreement. The Peaky Blinders get protection, turf, bodies, and arms. While all we get is a few fellas with guns.”

The muscle in Thomas’ jaw stood out. and you sat back. “You’re gonna have to sweeten the pot a little more, honey.”

“What do you have in mind?” He asked through grit teeth.

You shrugged. “I have one, very simple request. All I want is the details on every derby outcome for the next five years.”

His eyes grew hard once more. “Not. a chance.”

“Then you can kiss the Moon River goodbye, and get the hell out.” You snapped, reaching for your ledger once more.

“Wait.” you paused, letting Thomas have a moment to think. “I’ll give you the outcomes for the upcoming derby for the next year. That’s it.”

You grimaced. “Gonna have to do better than that, Tommy.”

“Two years.”

“Three and a half; I don’t expect you to live past four years from now.”

He sneered, but even that looked so pretty on his face. “Fine, three and a half.”

Thomas extended his hand, and your looked at it.

“Let’s talk business later,” you waved him off while standing. “In the mean time, you’re my guest Thomas Shelby. Come, join me for dinner. It’s a long drive from Birmingham, and you must be exhausted.”

His smile was tight. “Perhaps another time, Y/L/N.”

“Oh please, where’s your sense of fun? Join me at my table tonight,” you reached for your jacket. “Arthur can come too, but only if you keep your muzzle on him.”

You offer Thomas your arm, silently pleased at fraction his eyes widened. What surprised you is when he slowly wound his arm around yours, resting his hand on your forearm. Your heart fluttered with hot, raw excitement.

A sickly sweet smile pulled at your lips.

Paper work would just have to wait for tonight.


	2. Cacophonous Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of banter

A smug, pleasant feeling pressed against the underside of your ribs when you entered the casino’s main floor with Thomas Shelby on your arm. 

The Moon River was as busy as ever, despite your pocket watch reading 2:34 am. Mr. Rogerstein had retired for the night, leaving only a pianist and trumpet serenading the slow-dancing couples on the dance floor. 

Arthur had pissed off somewhere, not waiting outside your office like Thomas had asked him. You didn’t worry.

Heads turned and mouths opened, but Thomas remained a good sport as you led him to your table. Occasionally, him hand would tighten on your arm, but other than that, he said nothing.

You surveyed the area as you walked, searching for Helena amid the crowd. She was on the other side of the room, watching the roulette wheel intently, eyes darting to the individual patrons. 

Helena caught your look and you nodded. She took the silent cue and started your rounds; checking in with the bus boys, monitoring the kitchen, speaking with the servers. 

“This way,” you guided Thomas to the staircase at the edge of the foyer. “Tonight we get to dine with the princes.”

The restaurant was on the second floor, surveying the entire Casino floor. “Your table” was the long, table for twelve that was always filled with your close friends and best paying customers. 

It was a cacophonous crew; starlets and crooners pouring out cheers for no reason other than the fact that there was champagne in the pantry. Tonight, a lively conversation had erupted between Miss Zelda Sayre and Mr. Cab Calloway. Mr. Scott Fitzgerald was watching Zelda with this enchanted look on his face, and you had to suppress your smile. 

There was laughter and cheers, and a sudden pit in your stomach. You glanced at Thomas from the corner of your eye, remembering his roots. 

Such a serious, straight to the point man like Thomas would hate the dizzy stars of the screen and masters of music. You swallowed, back straight, chest out, and led him to the table. 

“Evening folks, I hope you don’t mind if a charlatan like myself basks in the warm light?” You asked, swooping down to press a gentle kiss to Josephine’s face.

“Oh, Y/N!” Zelda was up and throwing her arms around you. "We were worried you'd never leave your office!"

She turned her attention to Thomas. Her eyes raked hungrily over him. "And who is this?"

You smiled, chest suddenly pinched with possessiveness. 

“Thomas Shelby.” you stepped back with a flourish of your hand. “My newest business partner.” 

“How do you do,” Thomas said mildly, clearly not thrilled with the attention Zelda offered him. There was a few “hello’s” and “how do you do’s” in his direction. You did not miss the way Scott’s glare followed the newly introduced Mr. Shelby.

You stifled a laugh and seated yourself at the head of the table, Thomas to the right of you, Zelda to the left. 

When you were seated, you waved Mathide, the head waitress, over to your side. “A bottle of rum for me and Mr. Shelby; stand close by just in case we need anything.”

“So, what do you do for a living, Mr. Shelby?” Zelda asked, batting her eyelashes.

Thomas glanced at you cautiously, waiting to speak.

The lone act of submission made you smile. With a subtle nod, he continued. 

“I work with horses.” The answer was short and guarded.

Zelda pouted, clearly unsatisfied. “Is that all?”

“Easy, doll,” you sighed, lighting a cigarette. “Let the man relax. He’s come all the way from Birmingham.”

“Birmingham?” Her eyes lit up, and you knew she wasn’t letting Tommy go. “How charming!”

Thomas’ brows crinkled. “Have you been?”

“Never! But I hear it’s a dream,” she laughed crystal and clear.

You and Thomas shared a look before Scott came over, looking very uncomfortable. 

“Zelda,” he said, not looking at you and Thomas. “Care for a dance?”

“Not now, Scotty,” She did not tear her eyes away from Thomas. “I’m talking with Mr. Shelby right now.”

“Oh, go on, Zelda,” you kicked your feet up on the table. “Scott’s clearly wanted to ask you all night. Besides, Tommy and I have to talk shop.”

That childish pout was there again, and Zelda threw Thomas a flirtatious wink and wave as Scott pulled her away.

“She’s... nice,” was all Thomas said when the couple was out of earshot.

You snickered. “No she isn’t. Zelda’s more trouble than she’s worth, and then some. Watch out, though, once she’s taken a shine to someone, she doesn’t let up.”

Mathide returned with the bottle of rum, and you thanked her quietly. The bottle was heavy and cold in your hand. “Can I tempt you, Mr. Shelby?”

“Of course.” 

You poured the amber liquor into his tumbler, yawning. “Anything to eat?”

“No thank you.”

You sat in comfortable silence, watching the dance floor move, and the band swing. 

“The Peaky Blinders are moving south,” you hummed to yourself. “The world is really turning upside down. Soon the Russians will come from the East, and the Americans from the West.”

Thomas knocked back his rum. “When that happens, I’ll retire.”

“Will you? I don’t see you as the type of man to take a vacation.”

“Perhaps. When Britain is rung dry of its prospects, then I’ll consider.”

You swirled your glass before sipping. “No you wouldn’t, Mr. Shelby. I know your type. Your hungry for power and money, especially since you've come from a home that had neither of those things."

There was that muscle in Thomas' jaw again. "You seem to know plenty about me."

“I looked you up, months ago after the Eden Club fiasco.”

He regarded his cigarette before taking a long drag. “What did you find?”

“Just records of fist-fights and attempted arrests. The occasional search warrant that was never put in play.” You leaned forward, into his space. “I had to do some digging to figure you out, Mr. Shelby. My contact in Scotland Yard simply wasn’t enough.”

He chuckled, disbelievingly. “You have a mole in Scotland Yard? Who?”

You studied your glass of wine. “The commissioner.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not bullshitting you!”

“So what? You fuck him and he let’s you look at people records?”

“No, I let him fuck his boyfriend upstairs, in a private room, and he let’s me use the police records whenever I fancy,” You said indignantly.

The smile on his face didn’t fade away. Thomas seemed amused, despite the unfamiliar, uncomfortable surroundings.

"So? What did you find?"

"You killed Billy Kemper." You obliged. "You're a war hero who managed to slip into organized as though it were a used pair of gloves. You've been described as 'brutal yet oddly kind' in the most basic sense of the word."

"And your conclusion?"

You smirked. "None yet, I'm still working on a hypothesis. "

“I have to admit, You aren’t what I expected, Miss Y/L/N.” He hummed.

“Is that so?” You sipped your drink, savoring the warmth that scratched the back of your throat.

Thomas looked out at the dance floor. “You’re not the mewling, bloodsucking widow my associate made you out to be.”

Your brows creased. That statement was like an arrow that found a piece of exposed skin between your armor. A light smile was still painted on your lips. “Who might this associate be? By any chance, Alfie Solomons?”

“That is the man, indeed.” Thomas said.

“Mr. Solomons has never liked me.” You responded, a little too sharply. “He finds me abrasive; out of place in the world of business like yours.”

Thomas did not say anything, so you leaned in and continued. 

“Between you and me, I already know that he and Sabini want to push me out of London. They’ve been planning for years, after my casino started attracting the big names.”

"Then why haven't they? Is it the police under your thumb?"

You smiled. "Even better than that."

Leaning forward conspiratorially, you pointed to a man at the roulette wheel, lounging next to two finely dressed women.

"See that bloke? That's the finance minister." You singled out another man. "And that's the minister of justice. In the corner there, is the home secretary. About half of the men on the ground floor alone are coppers with loyalty to me."

Thomas' mouth opened for a second before pressing tightly closed. The unshakable Thomas Shelby was sitting next to you, visibly shaken.

You sat back in your chair, satisfied. "See? There's a few things you need to learn about the Moon River Casino before you try to partner with her."

"Well, then," The same bored look slipped over his face once more. "Educate me."

"First thing about the Moon River Casino and Club," you raised your hand and counted. "I never partner with men. It's bad for business and even worse for my temper."

Thomas scoffed, but when you looked at him, he was smiling. Actually _smiling. _His reaction spurred you on.

"Don't worry darling, I'll make an exception just for you." You winked.

This elicited a delicate laugh. "I'm touched."

"Number two; never get involved in scandals. That means adultry, gang wars, murder, and and various plots."

"All very fair subjects," he mused. "I suppose you'll make another exception for me?"

You nodded gravely. "You have to realize how important you are, Mr. Shelby. I'm breaking every rule in my book for you."

"That's an honour."

"I should think so," you said. "Third and last; keep all patron anonymity as true as possible unless absolutely necessary."

Thomas looked thoughtful. "And what if someone were to mention a name to the wrong person?"

"To put it plainly?" You responded. "If the name of any person you've seen tonight slips out into the general public, I might find the incentive to reconcile with Mr. Solomons and Sabini."

“Do you always cut to the chase?”

“I was taught to always go for the throat.” You said simply, eyes on the dance floor. “Forgive me for my bluntness.”

“Don’t apologize.” He said. “It’s refreshing.”

You looked down, mouth in a smile. “You’re quite the character, Mr. Shelby.”

He licked his lips, and you could see him take his chance. “Do we have a deal?”

You raised your glass. “I believe we do.”

He observed it before raising his own and knocking it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this fic, and decided, what the hey! let's write a couple more chapters!


	3. Bad Business Comes this Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble arises at the Moon River

After you shook Thomas Shelby’s hand, he disappeared back to Birmingham. For the following month, communication was limited to telegrams, letters, and phone calls. 

Despite your immense distaste, you dealt with Arthur Shelby frequently. His demeanor had shifted from irritable to cocky. The newfound alliance seemed to but a couple inches on him, and he had the tendency to walk through the Moon River like he owned it.

One evening, he went to Maruka’s desk, demanding to see you, and she swiftly told him what you told her; all mutts stayed at the front room. 

Cutting him down to size did wonders for your mood.

However, where Arthur Shelby roamed, Sabini and his men stayed far away. You wouldn’t admit to him, but you were grateful. 

Working with the Peaky Blinders had it’s perks, however, there were also severe pitfalls that followed. 

The Moon River Casino never had a problem raking in patrons. It’s anonymity coupled with good drinks and gambling made for loyal clientele. Your agreement with Tommy Shelby too the physical manifestation of Blinders, walking the casino floor every night. They holed themselves up in the employees lounge, and occupied the empty corners of the main hall. 

Patrons numbers hit an all time low. The Peaky Blinder’s presence make people feel, well, _peaky_. the number of law enforcement and politicians evaporated, and you couldn’t blame them; the idea of the Shelby clan holding any form of influence in parliament or the Police was unnerving.

Of all your employees, Helena was the least thrilled of the arrangement. 

“Fixed races?” She had asked, jaw agape. Helena was leaning against your desk, arms crossed. “You’re kidding me! We’re giving them guns and land, and we get a few outcomes? Y/N, you need to shake him down harder!”

“I know,” you snapped, legs lowering from the desk. “I know. Just, give me a bit of time. He’s a tough one to crack.”

“Whatever to do, just make sure he get’s rid of the men on the floor. We’ll sink under the red line before January.”

You groaned, Face in your hands. “I shouldn’t have dealt with the Blinders.”

Helena leaned down, meeting your eyes. “That’s true enough. But what are you going to do about it, huh?”

After a deep breath, you rattled out a plan. “I’m going to call for a meeting in a few weeks, tell him that his boys are scaring away customers, then we’ll rework the agreement.”

“And if he does not yield?”

“Then...” you rubbed your eyes. “I suppose I’ll break the agreement.”

Helena clicked her tongue. “Shelby won’t be pleased if you break.”

“It won’t come to that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

“We don’t need them, Y/N. We’re fine on our own.”

You shook your head gently. “As nice as that thought is, Helena, we both know Sabini is trying to push us out. Solomons is more than excited about that. If the Peaky fucking Blinders join that motley crew; we’re hooped.”

There was a beat of silence. “So, we’re accommodating the those fucking gangsters? Catering to their beckon call?”

“No. Well, Yes. Not really though.”

Helena was quiet.

“Okay,” you sighed. “A bit.” 

“I don’t like it when we’re the one at the end of the rope,” She said. 

“I know, I don’t either,” you tried to assuage her nerves. “But after we help the Blinders, it’ll be much easier to rework out agreement. All they really need is turf to put pressure on Sabini. We don’t have to do shit.”

“This than ideal.”

You sat back. “What would you do if you were in my seat?”

Helena tilted her head, considering. This is what you loved about your relationship with her; you were open to her ideas, and she avidly wanted to help the Moon River to thrive.

“I would loose the Blinders...”

“Obviously.”

“And then expand the Casino’s staff. Get some bruisers and men we can depend on. They could protect us against Sabini.”

You smiled. “Not a bad idea. What else?”

“Then we could get aggressive. Push Sabini back and finish Solomons. I’d remind them that the Moon River should not be trifled with. Then we would rule London.”

“Jesus, ‘Elena,” your eyes widened. “I had no idea that’s how you really felt about the situation.”

“It’s not important what I want.” She shrugged. 

You shook your head. “No, you’re on to something. Rough out a plan and budget, and I’ll look it over.”

“Are you seriously considering my idea? I was just throwing darts, Y/N.”

“We have the chance to explore ideas; all I care about 

Helena’s mouth was in a thin line. “We can do it your way.”

“I never said I was oppose to your ideas, Helena.” You said. “Give me some time, I’ll weigh your and mine options; i’ll get back to you.”

She offered you a rare smile. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Just before Helena left your office, you called out. “Hey, hon, I’ve been thinking about something.”

She closed the door, arms crossed once more. That was that constantly inquisitive look in her eyes that showed genuine interest. “What’s wrong?”

You stood, walking around your desk. “Nothing’s wrong, I just.... I’ve been thinking about how I run the casino.”

Helena said nothing and let you continue. 

“You’re a crucial asset, Helena,” You said. “Your advice is invaluable; you tell me what I need to hear, not what I want to hear. You’ve been here since day one, the moment I set up shop. If I were to expand the casino’s endeavors, would you consider being my partner?”

Her mouth opened in surprise before snapping shut. “I-I...wow, Y/N. I don’t know what to say.”

You grinned. “I don’t need an answer now. And, this proposal is dependent on if I chose to your plan for the Moon River.”

“Of course,” She returned congenially. “I have the plan and budget ready by Monday.”

The moment the door closed, the phone on your desk rang.

“Y/N Y/L/N, who is this?” You answered.

“I’m going to be in London in three hours, we need to talk,” Thomas said easily.

There wasn’t much you disliked about Thomas Shelby, but one thing you hated, was how he thought the world waited for him to move.

You didn’t miss a beat. “Can’t make it; dinner with my local MP.”

“Cancel it, We need to talk somewhere private.”

It wasn’t a question. 

“Mr. Shelby,” you spoke evenly. “I’m having a dinner tonight. I would be more than happy for you to join me. Perhaps afterwards, you and I can convene in my office and talk shop.”

The silence over the line made your heart skip a beat. 

“I’m no patient man, Y/L/N.”“Then perhaps it’s time to learn some virtues, hm?” 

You kept the edge out of your voice. “7:00pm, sharp, Mr. Shelby. I’ll set a place for you.”

Before he could answer, you hung up. Heart beating erratically. There was something nerve wracking about talking to Thomas. It was as though you had to be at your best; at your quickest wit, wearing your sharpest tongue.

It was exhausting. 

You willed away the oncoming headache, preparing yourself for the oncoming evening.

***

“And then,” Councillor Burkmeister said, gin sloshing over the edge of his glass. “I told him that that was the Minister of _Finances’_ wife!”

You let out this weak chortle as Burkmeister laughed uproariously. He was a short, fat man, with a a large mustache on his upper lip. You tried to ignore the bit of gray and fat that hung off of it. 

“So, tell me the new trade agreements with the Americans, Councillor,” you changed the subject. “What do they plan on cheating us out of?”

“Oh, I don’t see it like that. There’s more reciprocity that you think between us. The more you talk about self sufficiency, I’ll be forced to say you’re a communist!” He laughed again.

You smiled thinly. “Mercantile at best.”

The Councillor rambled, recounting a story about Winston Churchill. You tried to stay focused, but your attention kept drifting back to the empty chair in front of you. Every so often, you checked your pocket watch, making a mental tick when another five minutes passed. When the Councillor licked his lips, eyeing the dance floor and the Grand Dame of Petersburg, you encouraged him to ask her for a dance. He left, and you waved Helena over.

“Any sign of Mr. Shelby?”

She shook her head, itinerary in hand. “No telegram or call. Perhaps he decided he could not make it?”

You hid your disappointment with a gracious smile. “Perhaps I’ll just have to worry about Councillor Burkmeister tonight.”

Helena departed, going to survey the kitchen. You stood and walked the entire floor. Guests raised their glasses in acknowledgement when you neared, laughing and waving you over in delight. Every bit of recognition made your heart swell, these people were more than customers; they were family.

The bus boys raced to and fro, weaving around guests while carrying trays with dishes and glasses. Head bus boy, Etienne, was ordering the other fellas around like a conductor. You waved him. He was close enough to be your little brother, and was family, like Maruka and Helena.

“Everything going smoothly, Etienne?” You slide one hand in your pocket, while the other wrapped around his shoulder. “Kitchen’s good? Waitress’ are being treated well?”

“So far so smooth,” he ran a hand through his black curls. “No so busy nowadays with those Peaky brutes, huh?”

You nodded ruefully. “I’m working on that, try not to worry.”

“I’m not too stressed, I know you’ve got it under control.” That was one thing you liked about Etienne; he trusted you with the casino.

“Any new faces tonight?” You asked. 

He nodded. “A couple. Some blokes from Canada just letting loose, over at the roulette wheel, and a few Italian men in the dining hall.”

You froze. “Italian?”

“Not Sabini’s men, these fellas are from the Changretta gang in New York.” 

“Have you overheard anything they’ve said?”

“Some things about rum-running and working with the gangs here in England. I think they’re talking about Solomons and Sabini.”

You patted his back. “Good job. Anything happens, report to me.”

The Dining Room was across the floor. You began to walk in that direction, smoothing your hair down and preparing a neat introduction to the Changretta Gang, when a hand caught your arm.

You turned to see Dan, the Moon River’s custodian and groundskeeper.

“Y/N,” his voice was shaking. “There are men in back alley, asking for you. Sabini’s men.”

Dan’s collar was ruffled, and his eyes were wide. Your gut dropped into your shoes. “Take me there.”

A younger Peaky Blinder, Isaiah, was watching the commotion from the corner of the casino. He swiftly crossed the floor and was by your side in an instant.

“What’s the matter?” 

Isaiah was the only diligent Blinder, you were growing to trust him. 

You smoothed your hair once more. “Sabini’s men are here. I need to deal with them.”

Isaiah took a long puff of his cigarette. “Not alone. I’ve got your back.”

You nodded, hands clammy. “Lead on, Dan.”

You followed your groundskeeper to the back of the casino, through the kitchen, and storage room. Anxiety put a tremor in your step. 

The steel back door opened easily, and you stepped out into the cold evening. Despite the dark, the casino’s light offered a sense of safety despite the scene that laid before you.

Three men in full, three piece suits and fedoras, standing in the alleyway, waiting for you. In the center, stood Sabini, looking both peeved and righteous. 

“Y/L/N,” Sabini said, in that nasally voice. “How’s the place been?”

“What business do you have here?” Your hands stayed in your pockets, clenched into fists. Straight to the point. Go for the throat.

Sabini titled his head. “We’ve heard rumors that you’ve been making deals with the Peaky Blinders.”

He looked at Isaiah reproachfully. “Guess they’re true.”

“If that’s all, you can piss off.” You crossed your arms and leaned against the door frame. 

“That’s no way to treat guests, is it?”

“Your not my guests. Get off of my steps. Now.”

From behind you, Isaiah flicked the butt of his cigarette at Sabini. It fizzled out on the pavement.

Sabini looked from the cigarette to you. He was clearly about to lose his temper at any given second. “When Thomas Shelby gets tired of you and this shit hole, you’re dead meat, Y/LN. Mark my words.”

“Consider them marked,” you said. “Fuck off.”

You and Isaiah stayed there, eyes not leaving the men as they stalked off into the night.

“I’ll tell Tommy about this,” Isaiah murmured. “He’ll want to know.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I can handle it. Promise me you won’t say a thing to Mr. Shelby.”

You took out a fifty pound bill from your pocket and pressed it into his hand. Isaiah smiled and shook his head, but took the money none the less.

When you recalled that night, walk from the back of the casino to your office was completely erased from your memory. However, you did remember the weak feeling in your knees and how you practically collapsed in your chair.

You sat at your desk, forehead in hands. There was a gentle knock at your door. 

“Y/N?” It was Maruka.

You lifted your head, but said nothing.

She entered, rounding your desk to place a gentle hand on your shoulder. “What do you need?”

Swallowing, you closed your eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. “I need a penicillin, and a cup of coffee.”

Maruka patted your shoulder in confirmation. She was at the door when you stopped her.

“Wait.” You sat back in your chair. “Tell Helena I need her budget and plan by tomorrow evening; We’re setting it in motion by sun down.”


	4. Dealings upon Dealings

Helena really is a business woman at heart. Her budget and plan to expand the Moon River was really something else; screening possible muscle and spies, bribing smaller gangs to join the casino’s gun and drug running, putting men inside Solomons and Sabini’s joints. 

You put her in charge of screening and hiring, Etienne manned the bribery and spies. Over the next three days, the payroll list grew three times longer. 

What shocked you the most was the amount of people that wanted to work against Sabini. Plenty of small family businesses who were constantly threatened by him and his men found allegiance with you. Anyone who did not join freely was easily bought with a few rolls of pounds.

You distanced yourself from the work Helena and Etienne did, merely keeping an eye and okaying their decisions. You were busy reworking a deal for Thomas fucking Shelby. 

“Maruka, how does this sound?” She was sitting across from your desk, while you read from your type-writer. “ ‘On behalf of the Moon River Casino, we wish to rework our agreement with the Peaky Blinders, in which our benefits reach a far more equal exchange. Along with betting outcomes, we require a share of rum running and betting profits.’ Sound good so far?”

She tilted her head. “A little blunt, huh?”

“Well, I’m not here to beat around the bush. Neither is Thomas.”

“Still, a little bit of grace wouldn’t hurt,” Maruka said. “Would you like me to mail it later?”

“No, Gregory is going to deliver it by hand.” You said, writing down a few more lines and crossing out just as many. “Mr. Shelby has dodged every invitation and visitation request I’ve thrown his way, this must get to him, or at least his secretary.”

Maruka nodded in agreement. "You'll have it ready for him by the afternoon?"

Waving in response, you sent her back to her desk.

As Maruka left, Etienne dodged in, out of breath and disheveled. 

“Y/N, you won’t believe who I just spoke to!” He fell into the chair opposite your desk. 

You leaned forward. “Who, Etienne?”

He collected himself, face flushed pink with excitement. “Alfie Solomons. He requested an audience with you, to discuss an agreement of trade and peace.”

“What?” you were baffled.

“I know! I told him that we would contact him for an appointment.”

You fell back in your chair, a relieved laugh escaping you. “I-I how? Why?”

“It’s the new plan,” Etienne explained. His excitement was contagious. “The expansion means the Moon River can become a real threat to gangs like Sabini; he wants to be on the winning team!”

“My God,” you whispered, hands clasped. “Go tell Helena the news. She, you, and I will go down to his docks as soon as our schedules allow it; this is too good to pass up.”

***

Some time between Etienne's good news and the meeting with Mr. Solomons, you realized that it could have been a trap. The idea flitted through your head for a second while you were laying in bed, at twelve in the morning. You had forced yourself to trust Etienne and his word. 

Two nights later, you, Helena, and Etienne were standing at the entrance of Alfie Solomons’ brewery. 

“I’m nervous,” Helena said softly. “I’m really nervous.”

You rested a hand on her arm. “Don’t fret. Etienne and I will do the talking. You’re the muscle that’ll intimidate them.”

They both chuckled anxiously. 

"Remember," you said, tossing aside your spent cigarette. "If we're not out of there in two hours, Maruka is sending some fellas down to fetch us; let's do this as quickly and concisely as possible."

Etienne sighed. "Alfie Solomons isnt exactly known for being concise."

"Don't worry me," Helena groaned out. "I'm already all a flutter."

“It's alright. Etienne, lead the way.”

You and Helena followed him through the front door. You were greeted coldly by two of his cronies. After patting you down and finding no weapons, you were led to the back office.

Warmly lit against the damp of the cellar, the office was crowded with stray ledgers and papers. Alfie Solomons sat behind the large desk, spectacles perched on the edge of his nose. You and Helena sat across from him while Etienne stayed standing by the door.

Upon first glance, Alfie Solomons did not appear to be as formidable as described by adversaries. But you knew better than to let appearances deceive you. His tangled beard was specked with gray, his face was lined with wrinkles and sun spots. 

"Good evening, Mr. Solomons," you said, and he gestured to the seats in front of the desk. Helena sat next to you, while Etienne hung close to the door. 

“Y/L/N.” Solomons greeted. “What brings you here? Changed your mind about my bread?”

“So to speak,” you smiled. “The Moon River’s clientele had been steadily increasing; rum flows like water. There will be plenty of purchases on our behalf.”

Solomons sat back in his chair, arms crossed. “I think we can work something out. Don’t tell Sabini, but I always liked the way you operated in your domain. Treating everyone like equals. It’s admirable.”

“Thank you.”

“Sabini hates it.”

“Oh, I know.”

Solomons continued. “If you’re going to buy from me, I expect a pretty penny.”

“We can negotiate a price,” Helena said, legs crossed, notepad in hand.

Solomons waved her off. “Not tonight; I’ll send someone to negotiate throughout the week. Right now, I want to know what you want.”

He pointed directly at you, eyes squinted.

“I want nothing,” you said calmly. Etienne and Helena’s heads whipped around. 

Alfie Solomons did not seem surprised, then again, nothing seemed to surprise him.

You continued. “Mr. Solomons, all I ask is for you to remain passive if Sabini moves against us. If not passive, then supportive of the Moon River. That is all we want.”

Helena's mouth twitched as, though she was about to speak. She said nothing.

"That can't be all," Solomons said.

"But it is."

Solomons sat forward, tapping his fingers against the desk. You swallowed tersely.

“But it isn’t. You’re trying to come off as all calm and meek, so that I’ll offer something to you and your little casino, aren’t you? That’s the game, yeah?”

You sat back, feinting ease. “I had no such plan.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He stood up, pacing incredibly slowly. “What I think, is that your little casino has gotten itself mixed up with the big dogs. Bitten off a bit more than you can chew on. Now you need protection from Sabini.”

You stayed quiet. 

“And, by the way, he hates your guts. Wants to see your casino burn to the ground.”

“Because I turned him away?”

“Because you embarrassed him. Practically took a broom and swept him off your front steps.”

You pursed your lips. “He’s bad for my business.”

“Do you think he gives a fuck about your business?”

“Point taken.”

“Sabini is a little man with a lot of power.”

“That’s why I’m asking you to remain neutral. He does’t need anymore power.”

There was a beat of silence. The beat stretched into a seconds.

“I’ll... consider your conditions,” Solomons murmured.

You could feel your chest deflate. “That’s all I could ask for, Mr. Solomons.”

***

“Are you sure that this is the best idea?” Helena asked faintly as you emerged onto the street. “I thought you wanted to do business with him, not hand over your wallet and keys in a daylight robbery.”

Etienne was waving over your driver. 

You stood there, sweat prickling your skin. After that meeting, you were unsure as to whether or not Solomons was your ally. He seemed interested in the Moon River’s outcome, but not remotely interested about it’s relationships with Sabini and Shelby.

Helena placed her hand on your arm. “Y/N, did you hear me? I’m telling you this is a shitty deal.”

You pulled out a cigarette, hands fumbling for a match. “I know it seems crazy, but I know these men. Sabini, Shelby, Solomons; they’re all the same. They want everyone to acquiesce for the sake of honour and pride. It’s sickening. But we need to play their game. We need to puff them up, play to their egos, and make them feel like their in control. Solomons is right; the Moon River is way too small to take on any of the big names. We have to ask for permission, because we don’t have the hands to stand against them. Not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“Once we put your plan into play, Helena, we’ll get those hands. We’ll grow the Moon River into something beautiful.”

Etienne looked doubtful.

Helena regarded you carefully. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You hummed, taking a deep drag. “I do too.”

***

In two days, Gregory returns with a letter. When he steps into your office, you’re standing at the window, watching rain patter gently against the glass. 

“Y/L/N?” Gregory asked. “I have a response here. It’s a letter.”

Gregory was always so timid when he was around you, but then again, the kid was scared of his own shadow. You smiled kindly.

“Give it here, Greg. Did they treat you well?”

“They did, thank you,” he said weakly. “But Mr. Shelby didn’t seem to pleased when he read the letter.”

“I wouldn’t have expected him react differently.” You patted his shoulder and took the letter. “Go find Etienne, I’m sure he’ll have something for you to do.”

With a nod, the boy was gone.

Using your pocket knife, you sliced open the envelope. 

The letter contained only two words.

_I’m listening. _

You let out a huffing laugh, eyes rolling. Remembering what you had said to Helena two nights prior, you tossed the letter onto your desk. Anger thrashed childishly in your chest, but you quickly forced it down.

Men like Sabini and Shelby need to feel in control. So let them take control. Pull some strings behind the screen, wait and bide your time. That’s how you win. Men like them need the praise and power. You weren’t like them. You had been alive long enough to know that power and prestige were only worth any value when you had people to share it with. You thought of Helena, Maruka, and Etienne. Even Dan, Gregory and Mathide came to mind. You had created your family, and now you were going to help them.

You took a deep breath and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for disappearing! University has been.... hard. This chapter was a little boring, I'm just setting up for the climax!

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
